https://coda.io/d/_dYsYg7d1EIu/loosening-the-hinges_sur_v
There’s a weird set of properties where the harder you try at it, the worse you get. They also often have a bit of an exponential effect. Because the worse you get at it, the natural instinct is to try even harder.
For instance, I tried really really hard to be cool in middle school, but I was always considered the dorky kid. Some people were even harder workers than I was, and they ended up getting made fun of for it. The harder they tried, the worse the outcome became.
As humans, I think we’re used to a standard practice to overcoming adversity. Even if it’s not genetic, it’s the philosophy drilled into us growing up in American society. You know, the American Dream. We are taught to apply every part of ourselves to becoming better: a better kid, a better parent, a better partner, a better student, a better athlete, singer, actor, laundry-doer. Heck we even want to be better at something so clearly non-instrumental like having fun. Social media has become a game of showing off who is better at looking like they’re having more fun.
I really hate the properties that this phenomena applies to because I think they have the most effect on people who’s default instinct is to push harder at the problem, to apply brute force. You might be thinking “hah I’m not that dumb. I would THINK my way through it.” But thinking is also a form of brute force. As a society, we’re in a bit of an over-intellectualization crisis. We try too hard to think our way through things and then end up with mental health problems because our thinking does nothing for our situation. We think in paragraphs and rants and stream-of-consciousness dumps until our thoughts are looped around ourselves.
In case you didn’t get it yet, I’m that kind of person. When I encounter a problem, I really want to solve it, and I solve it by thinking about it. I can recount several times where I’ve had the thought “I’m too smart for my own good.” Like I’m writing this paragraph right now and the most cliche phrases are coming to mind. You know Einstein’s one about repetition and insanity and the one about bliss and ignorance. Knowledge may not be power, at least when these sorts of people wield it. They’ll (we’ll) use it to bury ourselves, unknowingly. We’re so focused on our work that we’re blind to what effect it’s having on us. How our efforts are not just neutral, they’re actively preventing us from moving forward.
For example, I’ve actively avoided a roommate on my way to a date. Don’t ask me why or what prompted this because that’s how I would begin my over-intellectualization of this memory. I just remember feeling an intense anxiety over the idea of the small talk that would result from me running into this roommate on my way to my date, so instead of dealing with that, I focused fully on my surroundings, knowing when the “coast was clear” for me to leave. I’m not very good at excusing myself from things that I no longer find joy in. Leaving a conversation that has become boring feels like navigating a minefield. I put a lot of pressure on the right way to do things. Propriety feels core to my natural instinct.
I’ve been toying with this idea of entering an “unhinged” era. I don’t know what that entails concretely. Most likely doing things that don’t feel “proper” to me, but at some deeper underlying level feel right (as in good to myself). It feels a bit like active disobedience, a practice in protest, familiarizing myself with acting according to my beliefs and values, especially when they conflict with others’ or maybe society’s as a whole. I’ve jokingly (although I think every joke about yourself is pretty serious at some level) said I wish I could “dumb myself down,” like a switch that turns off the part of my brain that blocks me from taking action: my mental propriety guard. But I don’t want to relinquish any knowledge. I don’t want to have to worsen myself just to get past this part of myself. I simply want to invite the guard to take a nice long vacation. Maybe on a tropical island beach where they serve those unlimited piña coladas. And while he fattens himself up with those devilishly good drinks, I’ll exercise my rebellious muscle. I’ll learn to acknowledge and thank him for his work, but firmly, assertively move past anyways.
It won’t happen overnight. I’m not going to overhaul everything in a day. I’ll be starting small. Unscrewing a few nails here: trusting myself to deal with the anxiety-filled encounters. Untying a few knots there: following my first instinct rather than questioning. Loosening the hinges a bit. And maybe I’ll discover I can move in ways I never imagined.